We made an amazing disturbance in the darkness of the sea with our double burthen, so much so that one of the coasting steamers changed her course a bit to range up by our side in curiosity.  We were scarcely going two and a half knots, in spite of the row we made, and there was hardly room for wonder at the steamboat captain’s hail, “Want any assistance?” “No, thank you,” was promptly returned, although there was little doubt that all hands would have subscribed towards a tow into port, in case the treacherous weather should, after all, play us a dirty trick.  But it looked as if our troubles were over.  No hitch occurred in our steady progress, slow though it necessarily was, and as morning lifted the heavy veil from the face of the land, we arrived at our pretty little haven, and quietly came to an anchor.  The chance was in port wind-bound, looking, like ourselves, pretty low in the water.  No sooner did Paddy hear the news of our arrival in such fine trim than he lowered his boat and hurried on board of us, his face beaming with delight.  Long and loud were his congratulations, especially when he heard that we should now be full.  Moreover, he offered—­nor would he take any denial—­to come with the whole of his crew and help us finish.

For the next four days and nights, during which the wind prevented the chance from leaving us, our old ship was a scene of wild revelry, that ceased not through the twenty-four hours—­ revelry entirely unassisted by strong waters, too, the natural ebullient gaiety of men who were free from anxiety on any account whatever, rejoicing over the glad consummation of more than two years toil, on the one hand; on the other, a splendid sympathy in joy manifested by the satisfied crew under the genial command of Captain Gilroy.  With their cheerful help we made wonderful progress; and when at last the wind hauled into a favourable quarter, and they were compelled to leave us, the back of our work was broken, only the tedious task of boiling being left to finish.

Never, I am sure, did two ships’ companies part with more hearty good-will than ours.  As the ungainly old tub surged slowly out of the little harbour, her worn-out and generally used-up appearance would have given a Board of Trade Inspector the nightmare; the piratical looks of her crowd were enough to frighten a shipload of passengers into fits; but to us who had seen their performances in all weathers, and under all circumstances, accidental externals had no weight in biassing our high opinion of them all.  Good-bye, old ship; farewell, jolly captain and sturdy crew; you will never be forgotten any more by us while life lasts, and in far other and more conventional scenes we shall regretfully remember the free-and-easy time we shared with you.  So she slipped away round the point and out of our lives for ever.